


Smell the Roses

by frankiemacfrank



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Cas is depressed, Cutting, Depression, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past self harm, Minor Character Death, Self Harm, anxiety attack, first fic, grave side visiting, hopefully cute fluff, self hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3948181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiemacfrank/pseuds/frankiemacfrank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt I saw on tumblr: “Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard” AU<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

     “Finally! Just what do you think you’re doing?” Boomed the voice from the supposedly empty house.

I could have sworn it was after seven forty five. He should be at work, shouldn’t he? In fact it should be eight fifteen in the morning.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Boomed the voice again. I freeze, blood running cold in terror and indecision. Do I run or simply explain why I am here?

I made the unfortunate decision of indecision and forced myself to stay and look up the man reprimanding me for taking a rose from his garden, “I’m sorry! You have the best roses in town and I only take one, I didn’t think you would mind!”

The tall rugged plaid-wearing man who owned the booming voice walked from the porch and down the stairs to the rose bushes I was crouched in front of.

“You’re the thief that has been stealing my roses,” It was a question but said as a statement. He knew who I was and what I was doing.

By now it should be around eight twenty or eight twenty five in the morning. I am going to be late!

“I’m sorry for taking your roses without your permission. I thought that you would consent to me taking a few roses every now and then since you do have such an extravagant garden. And these are the perfect color and are just… rambling. I am rambling,” I stated as my cheeks flush an even darker shade of pink.

“So. Red and white roses, who’s the lucky girl?” The smirking man asked.

“Well,” I started to say something I haven’t told many people. My cheeks flush again as I imagine what this –quite attractive– man would say and think if he ever found out about Balthazar.

How can I just openly tell this stranger something some of my friends don’t even know? I find myself stalling and the man gave me a raised eyebrow in question and a smirk playing on his lips, “She’s uh… she was everything,” I answered. Dammit.

“Well, I gotta see this Miss Everything for myself! I doubt she is enough for a free handful of my roses. I’m Dean by the way. Dean Winchester.”

Dean. A nice name for a nice face. Dean gives me that questioning face again. Oh! Introduce myself! “I am Castiel.” After the face he makes I quickly amend with, “call me Cas."


	2. A Walk with a... Friend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas start walking. And talking. Sorta. Idk where this is going?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Cas is insecure af and he also internalizes his feelings. Which is not good for you at all. He turns any kind of emotion besides the good ones into a form of self hatred and if that will bother you just be careful or dont read. I am sorry

"Alright Cas, lets go meet this girl of yours!" Dean jauntily says.

I internally scream at myself. Great. Look what I have gotten myself into.... "You really don't have to come. Its a bit of a long walk and," 

"Nonsense!" he rudely interjected, "I could use the nice morning air and a walk." 

Speaking of nonsense, he was supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be at work! It was eight forty! "Don't you have to work? I dont want you to be late because of some silly walk."

Dean looks me in in my eyes only to rolls his and scoff, "I dont have to work today. Bobby says I work too hard and he shooed me out of the shop this morning threatening to fire me. Like he could every try to fire me."

I saw his attempt at humor. He leaves much to the imagination, but at least that answers one question. That is until he asks, "So don't you have a job you have to get to?"

Damn. 

"I um, don't work right now. Im taking time off." It had been over a year since Balthazar died in the car wreck, and over a year since I had worked last. Or driven a car for that matter. I swore to never get behind the wheel of a car that day, it was my fault after all.

"Well as long as your'e doing you and your'e happy with that. Well lets get to walking! I gotta see the girl that got you into stealing! I bet she's a babe." That last part wistfully said.

Oh god he is straight. What is he going to say and think when he finds out where I was going and who I was going to see? He's going to be just like the others. 

"Dean, you really don't have to come. It is no trouble for me to go by myself, I walk this frequently. Go relax or something, go do what your boss said." hoping that practically begging would allow me to leave his front yard without him in tow.

"Sorry, man. If you have been stealing my roses I need to know who they are going to. So lets go ahead and get a move on!" Dean demanded.

What a pompous ass. I pick up the red and white rose and dejectedly lead the way as Dean keeps talking about anything and everything. I turn left taking the long way to the cemetery. Maybe by then I can either shake him off or come up with a lie he could actually believe.

About two blocks away from the next turn I decide to just tell the truth. Dean is still talking about some girl he calls Baby but apparently it sounds quite sexual...

"I just, she is so sleek and sexy and when I ride her I sometimes stroke her top of the dash and..."

"Wait who or what are you talking about, Dean?" I had to ask. Maybe I should have payed more attention to him talking.

"My car. She's a sixty seven Chevy Impala. Me and my brother used to travel the country in her. She's my Baby." Yuck. He tone of his voice is just dripping with a mix of love and weirdness.

Well I guess now is anytime to tell him. 

"Dean."

"What?"

"Do you know what we are near?"

"The diner? I could use some breakfast!"

"Well, yeah we're near the diner but we are also near something else. We are near... We're near the cemetery." I finally got it out! I may have stuttered but I got it out in one go!

"Cas. Why would we need to go to the cemetery? You are supposed to meet tha..." He cuts off. I think he finally understood.

"His name was Balthazar." I mumbled almost incoherently. 

Dean is nothing but quiet. 

Oh god I'm so stupid I shouldn't have said anything. He was expecting a hot girl and its a bunch of dead people....

"Cas," said hesitantly, "Are these roses for someone in the cemetery?"

Oh god he sounds so sincere now. What is going on? He's supposed to be mad you lied to him and what is wrong with me?

"Cas are they for someone who has passed away?"

I barely manage the squeak of a yes. 


	3. A Hard Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean knows the roses are for someone laid to rest in the cemetery and that his name is Balthazar. Both Dean and Cas blame themselves for being in the situation they are in and its quite a bit angsty and very emotional. Cas has small anxiety attack(s) in this one and there is a mention of blood and past cutting

"Cas, I had no idea. I am so sorry." Dean's voice trembled, "you let me treat you like an ass over the roses. Oh my god Cas, I am so sorry." Dean didn't know who this Balthazar was, but he was willing to be it was someone especially close to this smaller man. The pain of loss in Cas' face made it very clear it was someone he loved and cared for dearly. After all, Dean knew that pain personally himself. He saw it reflected in the mirror every morning.

My eyes welled up with tears as I felt the pain all over again of losing my best friend, my boy friend, my soon to be fiance, and the funniest and smartest man I knew. Dean looked me in my eyes when he heard me sniff as the tears ran down my face.  He had tears in his eyes as well threatening to spill over as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest comforting me and himself in the cool spring morning, roses falling to the ground. As soon as he wrapped his plaid covered arms around me it was as if the dam inside me burst. Everything I had held in broke free and cascaded down my cheeks. My breathing turned ragged and occasionally caught the smell of motor oil and leather that seemed to cling to Dean. It was comforting and helped keep me steady and to keep from completely losing myself in my grief of my love... loved one, Balthazar. 

"Cas, I am so sorry. Its gonna be okay. I'll make sure its gonna be okay," Dean chanted over me repeatedly. 

I tucked my head under his chin as my sobs died down and embarrassment started to sweep in it's place. Dean was running his hands up and down my back and I found it to be very soothing. It made me wonder how Dean knew how to comfort someone so well. Even if they did over react like I just did. Who am I kidding? Over reacting like I am.

I can't believe I just cried like that in front of and _on_ this stranger I have been stealing from! Oh god I know he's going to hate me if he doesn't already. I breathe deep and count to four, hold for 8, and breathe out for 8. I can feel the calm rush through me after the third attempt in trying to calm myself down. I seek that calm and wrap it around me like Dean's arms are wrapped around me. 

I finally draw back and l meet Dean's questioning eyes. "Hey," Dean says with a tight voice, "are you feeling better?"

He stops his hand motions. I tense up. He's making fun of me I just know it. I want to cry again. I can't take this false kindness especially if I am also dealing with having caused my other half to die. I can barely live with myself as it is. 

"No," I barely manage to articulate. I bury my head in his chest tuning out the world and just breathe in, hold, and release. 

Breathe in, hold, and release.

Breathe in the scent of motor oil and leather, hold, release. 

Breathe in longer, hold longer, and release with a heavy sigh.

I pull away from him completely to stand on my own only to realize that my hands are empty. 

Red and white litter the ground by our feet. Such a vibrant red upon the stark white scattered around as if someone had bled over a newly fallen snow. The roses are ruined. I fucked up again. I can feel my breathing quicken into little barely audible gasps. I jerk my gaze to Dean and I can only imagine how desperate I appear. How utterly stupid I look. I stole flowers, _flowers_ , from his front yard, lied about where I was headed, ruined the flowers I stole from him only to cry on him like he was someone who had known me for years. I must look so pathetic.

"Cas, I need you to look me in the eyes," I meet his gaze, "you are okay. I promise. I've got you. Don't worry about the roses, they were never a problem! It didn't bother me that you would take them." He brought his calloused right hand up to cup my cheek. "Today wasn't the first day I have seen you in my garden. I really fucked this up and its my fault that I am making you feel bad now. It never crossed my mind that the roses were not for a girl."

Hearing his deep voice has calmed me down a bit more. Focusing directly on the sound of his voice and his words. 

"Dean," your voice hoarse from crying and hold back, "it is not your fault for this. If it wasn't for me there would be reason to take your roses in the first place."

God I sound horrible. The random uneven breaths and hiccups making me feel like a two year old on top of my voice hurting from holding it in.

"Cas, do you want to go somewhere where we can talk?" Dean had noticed that I was getting jumpy and was taking more than just a moment to calm down. "We can go back to my house or if you want we are a block away from the diner. I wont make you be alone with me if you don't want to be. What ever you want to do is what we will do, okay?"

Why does he have to fake this? "I will be fine, Dean."

"I am not leaving you alone like this. You are having an anxiety attack and you don't need to be alone. I am here for you since I got you into this." Once again the lull of his voice pulls me into calm territory. "Lets go get some breakfast, alright Cas? Can you eat now or do you want to wait? I'm sure they have some tea if you want some."

"How did you know I would want tea? And why are you being so nice? I stole from you multiple times and here you are letting me cry on you and why are you trying to help?" My voice rose in anger and I yelled the last few words at Dean. How could he not see that this is not normal? None of me is normal! This situation isn't normal! My finger nails cut into my palms as I curl my hands into fists.

"Cas. Please just come with me. Please. I would like to talk to you face to face in a comfortable atmosphere. Lets go to the diner and get you some tea, okay?" He sounds so serious and so concerned for me. How could I say no? Its not like I am in the best place to be left alone either. I feel myself break.

"Okay," I mumbled. I placed my hand in his only for him to draw his hand back and to look at my palm. He sees the new crescent shaped wounds. His eyes trail up to my arm. He glances in my eyes seeking a permission to which i nodded. He raises my sleeve and sees the marks. The raised marks that range from still scabbed and healing to shiny silver scars. Dean touches and traces some of the scars and his touch ghosts over the newer cuts.

Our eyes meet once more, both filled with sorrow. Dean pulls out a handkerchief and gently wipes the blood from the palm of my left hand with his right and turns to the other hand to repeat his actions. It was a very quiet moment in which I couldn't breathe. My breath caught in my throat and as Dean traced my scars and cuts I let out  shaky breath.

Once dean had traced and cleaned my right arm and palm he took my hand and we walked to the diner and sat in the corner away from the handful of other customers.

Dean ordered a coffee, black, for him and asked if they had chamomile tea which they did not, so he ordered a green tea instead for me. Either way it was something hot and soothing for me to drink. Once our waitress returned with our drinks we settled into a comfortable silence neither of us hastened to break.

After a moment of thinking, I decided to tell Dean why I stole his roses and why it is my fault this is all happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to update as often as I can. I dont want to go more than a week without updating this fic (or any others im working on)  
> As always tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Destiel is not my OTP but I will be treating them as my OTP as I write this story. So bare with me if I suck at this. Please tell me if you like it or hate it and what I can do to improve!! Thanks for actually reading this chapter as well as this note!


End file.
